The Butterfly's Wing
by Mertiya
Summary: What if one little thing had happened differently when the tyrannosaurs attacked the trailer in The Lost World? Chaos theory implies an unpredictable, vastly different outcome.
1. Glass and Refrigerators

**Disclaimer:** Michael Crichton owns it all. Especially the beginning.

**A/N:** Okay, first of all, this is basically a Lost World fic, mostly from the book, but with some movie things thrown in, too; I generally write Malcolm at least partly from Jeff Goldblum's interpretation, and there are certain moments that are reminiscent of the films. Now, I know I'm starting with quite a long quotation from the book, and I'm sorry about that, but I'm trying to use it as a transition into my fic, so that it's extremely obvious where the fic starts, because it's essentially a "what-if" scenario about The Lost World, almost an exploration of chaos theory, if you will. Tiny changes...

Now that that long note is out of the way...enjoy!

**Chapter One**

_"'Dr. Malcolm and Dr. Harding need room to work. This is the time for a field trip to the high hide. We can watch the dinosaurs fro the rest of the afternoon.'_

_'But Doc--'_

_'Don't argue. We're just in the way here, and we're going,' Thorne said. 'Eddie, you come too. Leave these two lovebirds to do their work.'_

_In a few moments, they left. The trailer door slammed shut behind them. Sarah Harding heard the soft whirr of the Explorer as it drove away. Bent over the baby, adjusting the oxygen mask, she said, 'Lovebirds?'_

_Malcolm shrugged. 'Levine…'_

_'Was this Levine's idea? Clearing everybody out?'_

_'Probably.'_

_'Does he know something we don't?'_

_Malcolm laughed. 'I'm sure he thinks he does.'_

_'Well, let's start the cast,' she said. 'I want to get it done quickly, and take this baby home again.'"_

Malcolm looked over at her quickly. She was bent forward over the baby, her brow furrowed in concentration, her dark hair wild. He thought about Levine's reaction to his suggestion that they come to meet her, thought about his own explanation. It had been a very quick explanation. A very plausible explanation. And also rather evasive and rather, well, untrue.

He and Sarah had gone their separate ways mainly because she had decided she had to go off to Africa, and she and Malcolm hadn't felt up to keeping up a long-distance relationship, but--Malcolm had to admit to himself that he had never really fallen out of love with Sarah, and it was certainly more than a mere gesture of friendship that had prompted him to suggest they welcome her. Malcolm wondered if Sarah felt the same way. He knew she hadn't been involved in any serious romantic relationship since the two of them had parted, but with Sarah, you never knew.

"Come on, are we going to do this, or not?" Sarah asked impatiently, and Malcolm shook all speculations out of his brain and tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

* * *

_" 'Brace yourself, Sarah!' Malcolm shouted. 'It's going to be bad!'"_

There was a resounding _thud_ as both tyrannosaurs slammed into the trailer. Malcolm yelled as the trailer turned end over end. It came to a slow, rocking halt, and Malcolm lay stunned on what had been the window gazing out into the clearing. He heard Sarah's breathing coming in ragged gasps from somewhere near him and tried to force his mouth to form words. "Sarah?" he managed weakly a moment later.

He heard her moan and turned to see her. Her face was a white oval in the semi-darkness of the trailer, and somewhere in Malcolm's mind an alarm bell was ringing--_dark it's dark it shouldn't be dark should it oh the power's off we have to turn the power on--_and then the tyrannosaurs slammed against the vehicle a second time and the thought was almost lost in the clatter and smash of breaking equipment and the wild, nauseating roll of the trailer. Malcolm heard Sarah yell in pain and hoped that she wasn't too badly hurt. The trailer lurched to a stop for the second time, and Malcolm lay panting on his side. The world was going dizzily round and round, and the floor was tipping--Oh, God, the floor _was_ tipping, it wasn't just a head-injury-induced illusion. That could mean only one thing. "Sarah!" Malcolm yelled, with his remaining strength. "Sarah, they're pushing us over the cliff!"

Somehow, on the slowly tilting floor, he managed to scramble to his feet, and he was reminded crazily of the film _Gold Rush_, where the cabin was teetering on the edge of the cliff, and every time Charlie Chaplin went to the wrong side it tipped further--Malcolm raced toward the upward end of the trailer, found Sarah dazedly sitting up. "The power--" he gasped. "Got to turn on the power. The shock--"

He heard the tyrannosaurs bellowing in triumph outside, and knew that whatever respite they had had was swiftly drawing to an end. He pounded toward the humming panel, flipped it open, found the switch that Thorne had explained would turn on the IUD. At the same moment, both tyrannosaurs rammed into the trailer for the third time. There was a hot burst of white sparks, outside and at the panel. The tyrannosaurs bellowed in rage and pain and a jolt of electricity ran through Ian--he was knocked backwards just as the teetering trailer slid entirely over the cliff.

He fell, straight downward, through the length of the trailer, narrowly missing a lab table and landed with a crash on the front window. Immediately, he blacked out, but came to moments later to find himself lying on his side, gazing down at the valley floor, thousands of feet below. _Oh, God…_

_

* * *

_

Thorne leaped out of the jeep and stared at the scene. The tyrannosaurs were standing to one side of the clearing, the female bellowing in rage and pain, the male crouching over the baby, which was emitting small squeaks of distress. Neither of them seemed likely to venture across the clearing. And there, across the clearing, was the first trailer. Right next to the cliff. There was no sign of the second.

With a sick horror, he made his way to the side of the cliff, peered over. Nothing. Nothing but the warm tropical rain pouring onto the shattered remains of the second trailer lying at the base of the cliff.


	2. Hang in There

**Disclaimer:** Mr. Crichton owns everything, luckily for him.

**A/N: **Well, I finally managed to get a new chapter done. Warning: characters in major peril ahead. Well, they already were. But it continues. Oh, and you didn't _really_ think I'd kill Malcolm and Sarah, did you?

**Chapter Two: Hang in There  
**

**A few minutes earlier...**

Malcolm felt sick. The trailer was swaying slightly in the wind, and he could see the green landscape moving dizzily below him. "Ian?" Sarah's voice called.

He managed a grunt in response, "Unh?"

"Ian, are you okay?"

"I, uh, well, sort of--"

"Where are you? I can't see you!"

"Uh, I'm hoping that the glass in the front window of the trailer is extra-strong."

There was a pause, then Sarah's voice floated down. "Ian, stay absolutely still. Stay _absolutely _still!"

"I really wasn't planning on going anywhere soon," Malcolm answered testily. He shut his eyes. That was better. Now he couldn't see his death staring him in the face.

"Don't worry, I'll get you," Sarah called. Malcolm heard a straining noise and groaned.

"What is it? Are you hurt?"

"I don't think the glass likes me!"

"I'm coming as quickly as I can." There were a few thudding noises and Sarah grunted with exertion. Then she panted, "Okay. I've got the rope secured at the top of the trailer. Can you grab it from where you are?"

Malcolm looked. "No," he replied. "It's hooked over something, I think, and I can't reach that far. I'm, uh, uh, also a little nervous about sudden movements."

"Okay. Okay. I'll come down to get you. Just hold on."

"Thank you," Malcolm said, but he didn't move. The sides of the window where the glass was attached were definitely straining.

He heard Sarah's voice talking, and thought that she was probably trying to keep them both calm. He appreciated it. "You know, I've never really liked climbing," she said conversationally. "There were always so many things I just liked a lot better."

"Uh-huh," Malcolm responded. "I, uh, I know what you mean."

Was that a crack appearing in the glass?

"I never had trouble with upper-arm strength," Sarah continued, her voice getting steadily closer and closer. "I just didn't like the way my legs dangled helplessly. I've always been something of a runner, you know."

It was definitely a crack. What was the problem with these people, didn't they reinforce their glass? Malcolm glanced sideways and saw that the refrigerator had also landed partly on the glass and was putting a good deal of weight on it. That explained it. And Malcolm himself was no light weight. The refrigerator must have slid and tipped or something; Malcolm couldn't think of any other reason it hadn't landed on the glass hard enough to shatter it there and then.

"Gotcha," Sarah's breathless voice said triumphantly, and he felt her hand clamp down on his shoulder. The refrigerator groaned. Malcolm noticed it was at a tilted position; in fact, it was about to--

--he grabbed upward at the rope just as the refrigerator landed heavily full on the glass. There was a smash, and two cries rang out simultaneously, Sarah's and Malcolm's. A moment later, Malcolm found himself dangling a thousand feet above the ground, his arms wrapped tightly about Sarah's legs. "You have good legs," he commented, glancing upward at Sarah's terrified face.

"I haven't shaved in months!" she protested, nevertheless cracking a smile.

"Yeah, well, uh, I'd like to see them when you have!" Malcolm responded.

"Ian, this is not the time!"

"Well, I, ah, am unlikely to have another such opportunity."

There was an ominous creaking sound from above them. Malcolm blanched. "Especially if that is, indeed, the, ah, accordion connection giving way."

"Damn, damn, _damn_!" Sarah expostulated, her voice high and frightened. "Okay, Ian, I can't see below you. Look down--is there any way for us to, um--"

"--not fall to our deaths? I, uh, I don't know." Malcolm's whole body was sweating, and his arms were clutched so tightly about Sarah's legs that they were starting to shake with effort. His gaze swept over the side of the cliff. Earth, rough earth. Rock, sheer, solid, textured--_looks like a big dinosaur_. Nothing, nothing--no handholds, just sheer, solid rock with a sprinkling of earth that would never hold their weight. Malcolm swallowed. He could barely move--sheer terror was beginning to control him utterly. Wait, what was that? "There!" Malcolm gasped, trying to suppress the panic.

"What?" Sarah yelled.

"There's a cave in the cliff--uh, uh, a few feet down!"

"How far? Can you reach?"

"Not yet, I'll, ah, have to climb down your legs!"

"Hurry, we've got less than a minute!"

All Malcolm could think of as he slowly lowered himself downward was the utter bizarreness of the situation. Sarah's legs were slippery with rain and sweat and her socks, when he found his hands resting on them, were soaked and muddy. He was about half a foot above the black opening that gaped in the cliff-face and half a foot outward from it. "I'm going to have to swing!" he yelled to Sarah, his voice cracking with tension.

"Fine!" came Sarah's reply, muffled by the wind that was starting howl around them. Malcolm could hear the strain in her voice. He kicked out with his legs, and Sarah grunted in pain. The momentum swung Malcolm forward, and at what he judged the proper instant, he let go. For a heart-stopping moment, he was falling--for half a second he thought he'd missed the cave and was going to plummet the entire length of the cliff. Then his feet hit the ground, his knees bent, and he sat down hard. "Sarah!" he called. "Drop and I'll catch you!"

"Are you sure about this?" Sarah's voice called back anxiously. The accordion connector groaned in protest.

"No choice!" Malcolm yelled. "Come on!"

He heard Sarah take a deep, gasping breath, and then abruptly she was falling toward him, his arms were reaching out to catch her--at the same instant, there was a final ripping noise and the trailer plummeted toward them--Sarah landed heavily in Malcolm's outstretched arms, and he pulled her back into the cave just as the trailer thundered past them outside. An instant later, there was a terrific smash from the bottom of the cliff.

Malcolm and Sarah landed in a tangle of legs and arms. For a moment, both of them lay panting, trying to get their breath back. Then Malcolm sat up slowly, wiping sweat from his forehead. He was shaking like a leaf all over. "You okay?" he asked Sarah, who was beginning to sit up slowly too.

"I think so," she responded, a little faintly. Her dark hair was plastered to her head with rain and sweat.

"Phew." Malcolm staggered dizzily to his feet. "Damn. I, uh, I _hate_ Rexes. I hate them."

"Ian--you know, you never did tell me what happened to you on that other island."

Malcolm gazed at her tiredly. To hell with nondisclosure agreements. "A T-rex got loose," he admitted. "And it, ah, grabbed me and threw me to the, uh, ground."

Sarah's eyebrows rose. "Pretty brave of you to come back here," she commented.

"Pretty, uh, uh, stupid is more like it," Malcolm said bitterly. "Now, how are we going to get out of here?"

Sarah shrugged. "I don't really know. I guess we should explore this cave more, see if there's a way up or down from the inside."

"Yeah, yeah, good idea, but let's sit down and, ah, catch our breath first, shall we?"

Sarah sat down at the edge of the cave, her legs dangling, with a sigh of relief. "Frankly, I'm astonished we're still alive," she commented, as Malcolm lowered himself to the ground beside her.

"Frankly, uh, uh, so am I," Malcolm returned. "And I'm really extremely pleased about it too."

"Damn straight!" Sarah laughed. "God, that was amazing, though, in a way! I bet that's nothing you've ever done before."

"No, no, I, ah, I often spend time hanging from young women's beautiful legs."

Sarah grinned at him. "If you're expecting me to blush, you're wasting your time. I'll repeat what I said before: I haven't shaved in months."

"Good thing too," Malcolm responded. "Your legs would have been even slippery if you had."

Sarah just smiled at him and turned to look out at the raging tropical storm. Malcolm watched her unobtrusively. Her dark hair was tangled and matted with mud and rain. Her clothes were torn, bedraggled and muddy. And Malcolm thought bemusedly that she looked just as beautiful as ever. He put his hand out gingerly and laid it on hers, which was resting on her leg. She looked over at him, startled, but she didn't withdraw her hand.

_Isn't this what they call, uh, uh, 'chemistry'? Damn it, I feel like a teenager. I'm, ah, forty years old! Besides, we, uh, we broke up._

Sarah moved imperceptibly closer.

_What the hell_.

He leaned forward, raising one hand to brush her cheek--her breath was warm on his face, and she wasn't moving away. _We're in a hole in a cliff surrounded by, ah, giant, ah, killer death-lizards, to be colloquial, and we're probably going to die. Chaos theory. _

Then, _Hell. Who cares?_

Their lips were brushing lightly together, when Sarah turned abruptly. "What was that?" she asked.

"What?"

Then he heard it. A rough, animal scream from outside the cave. _Damn, what now?_

He looked out. In the sky outside were four or five large pterosaurs, and they were winging their way directly toward the cave. Malcolm heard a squeaking sound from behind him. "Oh no," he muttered softly. Sarah was already scrambling up and backward into the cave.

"Babies!" she yelled a second later. "Ian, we've got to get out of--"

WHAM! Malcolm had turned toward Sarah's voice when she yelled and consequently had not been looking out at the pterosaurs. One of them crashed heavily into his back, and he was knocked to the ground and saw stars. He shouted in surprise as its weight landed on his back, and he rolled to the left just as a beak slammed into the floor of the cave where his head had been seconds before.

Malcolm lashed out with a foot, catching the dinosaur somewhere in the middle of its body. It screeched in pain, a raw sound that hurt Malcolm's ears. He lay half-dazed on the muddy floor of the cave and simply stared as it dragged itself onto its claws. It was a brilliant green creature, shaped like some weird cross between a bat and a bird--the bat's filmy wings and furry body beneath a bird's elongated head and massive toothless beak. It had to be six feet tall, maybe more. Its wing span--he guessed it would be four times that if the wings were spread out to their full extent. "My god…" he murmured, unable to move for the moment, transfixed by the ghastly glory before him.

"Ian!" Sarah's voice cut into his trance. He pulled himself to his feet, found himself eye to eye with the monster. It hissed with fury and clacked its beak threateningly. It raised itself onto its hind legs, threatening him with beak and claws now. Malcolm backed away, his hand questing for a weapon of any sort, a stone, a stick, even a clump of dirt to blind the beast, but found nothing.

Desperately, he jumped backward just as the pterosaur lunged, heard Sarah's yell of warning, too late. He had leapt out of the cave.


End file.
